


Ménage à trois

by quitefinishedlove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Sibling Incest, Uni student Harry, all the way, lots of rimming (in the future) because weyhey we love rimming, please read it for harry in lace, professor/businessman louis, threeway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quitefinishedlove/pseuds/quitefinishedlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis feels like he’s reliving one of the filthiest dreams he’s ever had, the ones where he wakes up too hard and desperate despite already having to come in his sleep. The boy meets his gaze, recoiling as if he was under Louis’ scrutiny. Harry, he’s very much like Harry. He looks exactly like Harry on a much younger form.</p><p>(or the one where Harry has a younger brother called Harold, and Louis knows right then, he’s rightfully screwed.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags to be warned beforehand, thank you. :)  
> Disclaimer: We own nothing, except our wild imaginations, and Harold !

* * *

 

 

**_Ménage à trois_ **

 

Harry blinks onto the lofty ceiling where an antiquated chandelier hangs as it faintly teeters. Eyes focusing on the wavering fixture till it soothes.

 

He’s all too familiar with the cream-tinged walls painted on every surface, the sheer curtains swaying from the blithe billows of wind that seep through the aperture and the faint smell of dew evaporating in the morning air. Hypothetically, Harry wakes up feeling fresh and quenched. He suddenly feels a hand skimming through the curve of his waist as it presses possessively over the area, skin warm under each fingertips. Wisps of soft chestnut hair tickle his ear whilst the coddler’s scruffy jaw scrubs on the hollow of his neck. Harry pivots his upper body marginally to face the person glued behind his back.

 

And well, he’s outrageously gorgeous.

 

The first time they met Harry comprehensively _‘honors’_ himself by labeling him as a ruggedly handsome man with high and sharp cheekbones, tantalizing sapphire eyes, and dark stubbles that litter his perfectly chiseled face.

 

He looks very _rugged_ , but soft and cuddly at the same time; Harry wants to pepper his face with kisses until he wakes up, thereupon snogging him fully. He swivels the entirety of his body moments later, facing the man he’s too focused on waking up with pecks and smooches, the bed rumples along with his movement. The sheets crease from where his elbows are sagged for leverage whilst his chin is rested on both hands as he ogles dreamily at the sleeping seraph beside him.

 

Louis Tomlinson, Harry’s young volunteered professor on his business administration course who he accidentally flirted with thinking he was an upperclassman. Although Harry was, in fact, a tad skeptical at first as he finds it odd for a senior to wear a suit in class, not that he’s side-eyeing those who choose to wear formal dress codes within the premises. It’s just that—Louis doesn’t the least bit look nor feel old, if the way he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows to expose his beautiful tanned, inked skin is anything to go by. And surprisingly, Harry finds out he’s right the next day, Louis is seven years his senior and apparently a CEO of a renowned trading enterprise.

 

They have been in a relationship for three months now, and ever since they started dating, Harry has always been spending his (time) night at Louis’ and almost _completely_ forgets his shared uni apartment with his best mate Niall. Their joint expenditures carry on as Harry still pays half the rent, as stated in lease, under no circumstances is he to leave Niall to pay alone. The Irish ball of sunshine, as to what Harry would always refer him as, liberally uses their flat for throwing in some wild uni parties, not that Harry minds, his belongings were mostly packed and taken to Louis’. He is less likely to care if something goes missing, Niall should know better. Or on other occasions—during their laid back pursuits where weed is present—chill around with their other mate, Zayn.

 

Harry’s blithe nature surfaces further since dating Louis. He’s nothing but a bundle of joy bursting with extreme delight, like a preschooler who has been given five stars for being such a good noodle. He’s also an incessant broken record of bad puns and knock-knock jokes to which he was fairly certain his boyfriend has had to endure for a while to get used to. Louis pampers him a lot, and it’s very endearing to see him attempt a breakfast meal to serve once Harry wakes up. He’s never had a boyfriend who tried cooking for him, leave it to him for always doing the job, he’s not complaining but it sure as hell would feel nice if his partner would somehow put in some effort.

 

But then again, Louis isn’t only all about being sweet and domestic. Turns out, Harry found his ultimate soulmate, the person he’s certain to marry and have children with. Harry remembers Richard, or _Dick_ , who purposely broke up with him after learning his lingerie kink. And honestly, to hell with his damn outlook, Harry can wear anything he wants whether it be lacy undergarments, sheer panties or nothing at all, thank you very much. He’s just awfully grateful that Louis, turns out—is as much as _kinky_ as he is.

 

Their sex is amazing per se. Harry has never been _too_ desperate and sloppy when riding a cock, not until now, Louis certainly knows how to work his magic. Having an older boyfriend with a remarkable experience rouses and electrifies Harry to some great extent and he’s even yet to explore all his kinks with Louis. What more when they get to the bottom of it all. He makes a mental note to physically and emotionally prepare himself.

 

Louis’ chest slowly rises and falls in accordance with Harry’s composed breathing, his eyes going misty at the thought of slumping back. It’s only six thirty in the morning; the sun rises into the morning sky, casting sunbeams in every direction whilst illuminating Louis’ golden skin and warming up his own pale complexion.

 

He is reminded that they have a morning class to attend to when Louis’ phone starts going off. Harry’s too lazy to move a limb, he couldn’t avert his eyes on his sleeping boyfriend, particularly on his parted pink lips—and, he just has this sudden immense urge to kiss him sweetly.

 

“So, are you going to kiss me and make me breakfast—or gawking at a defenseless person is what you plan on doing for the next few hours?” Harry can’t help the giggles flitting out of his mouth. Louis’ eyes were still closed, but the slow stretch of his mouth that forms into a crooked smirk tells otherwise that he is very much awake. “Good morning, baby.” Louis then opens his eyes and is met with the cerulean blues Harry’s always loved, smile going sweeter.

 

“Good morning, babe.” Harry mirrors the smile before leaning forward to kiss his boyfriend’s cute button nose as he aims for his lips next, pecking quickly. “What do you want for breakfast?”

 

“You.” Quips Louis, shamelessly. Harry laughs at his cheeky proposition because why not? He kisses his boyfriend’s lips once more before getting up and reaching for the nearest shirt he could find. Louis’ shirt is a bit tight on his shoulders, but fits nicely around his torso. Besides, it’s cute that it can’t even cover his navel much less his perky bum, he loves giving his boyfriend a good view during daybreaks.

 

“Silly, you can have me after I make us some pancakes and tea, baby. Now, come on.” Harry runs his fingers over the scruffy line of Louis’ jaw, he purrs at the thought of it rubbing against his sensitive skin. God, Louis’ scruff is such a big turn on. He shoots Louis a playful wink seconds later as he crawls out of bed with his arse sticking out, showing his pink hole stretched from last night. He leaves the room with Louis hard and aching but Harry isn’t cruel enough to leave his boyfriend hanging. He admits to being a big tease but he’ll compensate by sucking him off in the showers later.

 

Harry serves them their typical English breakfast with warm tea, no sugar added for Louis, and a kale smoothie for himself as he vows to continue his juice cleansing for the entirety of the week. They talk about Harry’s other subjects aside from the one he has with Louis; how he struggles with his elective whilst his basic business lessons being his core strength. As unfair as it may come across, Louis gives him a grounding in advance on the principles of marketing and accounting. Although Louis’ his professor on Natural Science, he appreciates the effort Louis stretches out for him. His flexibility as a business major graduate never ceases to amaze Harry.

 

They also talk about Niall and his insolent tendencies, he loves the Irish lad don’t get him wrong, but using his former room as him and Zayn’s storage room was coming out of hand. Not to mention, the constant sleepovers Zayn does at their, or mostly Niall’s apartment, was something he’s found out just a few days back. Harry reminds himself to kindly ask Zayn if he could just move in with Niall so he could take his flat disbursements.

 

Louis snickers over his cuteness; at his gesticulative and expressive ways of elucidating things. Louis also shares his plan on pranking his secretary Liam, because as hefty and serious as their jobs would come about, Louis believes a good skylarking will help them cope with stress.

 

Harry giggles fondly, he’s dating a kid—and yes, he’s happily in love with said man-kid.

 

\--

 

Mondays are the worst; not only was it the onset of a weeklong distress but also Harry has a full schedule every Monday and he’s dumped with tons of workload, he’s even pressured to finish at least 3 courseworks by the end of the week. He just got back _home_ from his afternoon class and all he thinks about is showering—scrub every filth off his body then get some nap he deserves for today’s exertion before Louis arrives home.

 

Shortly, after discarding his jeans off, his phone starts buzzing as he quickly seizes it off the table before the caller hangs up. His screen lights and shows his mother’s caller id, he answers in a flash.

 

“Hello, mum?” He answers whilst sitting back on the bed, boy shorts grazing over the soft sheets.

 

 _‘Hello, chic! How’s my baby doing?’_ His mother’s voice quickly warms his heart. Harry hasn’t been home since his last semester as he utilized the two month break on finishing his company interview project, and now he realizes how much he’s missing the presence of his family.

 

“I’m good, mummy. Just got back from my afternoon class, what’s up?” Truth be told, it was very unusual for his mother to call on a Monday afternoon. Generally, Harry would be hearing from her during the weekends, mostly when Harry isn’t too occupied with school stuff. Something must’ve happened, and judging from her enthusiastic reception, Harry’s certain it isn’t something bad at the very least.

 

 _‘H, listen, Robin and I just won free holiday tickets to Jamaica for two weeks.’_ Agitates Anne, despondently as quick as lightning. It’s actually pretty good news, Harry wonders why his mother seems forlorn over the inevitable escapade. The line goes silent for a passing second or two as he only picks up his mother’s steady breathing, a long sigh follows shortly before she continues, _‘It was a ticket only for two. We wanted to treat Harold so he could come along with us but your brother refuses to leave.’_

 

Harry perks up at the mention of his little brother’s name. _‘I mean it’s fine if he doesn’t want to come but we can’t just leave him alone, he’s only seventeen, who knows what he’ll do.’_

 

Harold has just turned 17 two weeks ago, technically he’s reached the age of consent a year ago and there shouldn’t really be a problem in leaving a legal teenager alone, regardless, Harry understands his parents’ fears and concerns. Harold starts his second year in sixth form after his summer holiday ends, apparently, said break starts next week at the same day their parents’ plane takes off to Jamaica.

 

 _‘He’s on summer camp three weeks from now, we’re home by then so while we’re out I thought I’d ask you to keep an eye and take care of your baby brother for a while till we’re back. If it isn’t too much to ask chic, can he maybe stay at your place? He misses you so much, there hasn’t really been a day that went by where you weren’t mentioned during dinner.’_ Anne chuckles lightly.

 

And well, that was really sweet. Harry doesn’t mind taking his little brother in, he might be a bit busy with his summer class and the homework and projects accompanied on every lesson, but he is never too busy when it comes to Harold, and Louis. The notion of taking his brother out with him in the city sounds very exciting, he could give him a tour around the campus and show a few examples of what it’s like being a uni undergraduate.

 

Harry thinks of moving back to his and Niall’s apartment, try being civil and be a good influence to his little brother—it’s merely two weeks anyway.

 

“Alright! Sure, mum. I can have him for two weeks. All’s on me.” He assures with a smile he’s certain his mother could tell from the line. “I’ll pick him up, when is it again?”

 

 _‘This weekend, have an early leave.’_ Anne notifies as she lets out a long relieving sigh soon after.

 

“Okay, no problem. I’ll go take a shower now, I feel so icky. Tell Harold and Robin I miss them.”

 

_‘Sure darling, thank you so much.’_

 

“I love you guys, see you real soon.”

 

\--

 

The general plan was to move back to his uni apartment, make Niall and himself civil, cancel all the parties and stoning sessions the Irish lad has already scheduled for next week and be a role model for his little brother. He’s keen on showing Harold the ropes of being a university student, the ups and downs it brings him but nonetheless sensational especially when he has good friends for company.

 

But alas. A plan is just a plan.

 

Last minute preparations are the worst and Harry’s taking full responsibility of their screw up. The high likelihood of his clarification getting through Niall’s head should’ve appeased him only if he called the lad again and again. But, he’s only briefed Niall once last night over the phone, he should’ve known the tittering responses Niall gives him were quite odd and chary.

 

He picks Harold up from the airport the following day (a momentous prospect once seeing each other) and drives them back to his uni apartment with Harold rambling lots of stories he’s stored to narrate Harry. Once they’ve arrived, Harry’s skepticism was proven precisely, and before they can even step inside, he already knows something’s up behind the door and he’s too wary to open it as he can already smell everything that ensues from inside. He’s gonna sock Niall.

 

The whole flat smells ridiculous. He finds Niall finishing a joint with Zayn looking high and intoxicated shortly after he barges in.

 

“Niall, seriously?” Harry grouches, frustration evident in his tone.

 

“Oh, H! Sorry mate! I messed up the dates, I swear to god! Kinda forgot about li’l H—but we’re finished so I think you and your brother can come in now, hah—but you’re already inside, hey li’l H come on over!” Niall’s too stoned he ends up slurring and laughing hysterically over the name he’s given Harold whilst Zayn cackles obnoxiously next to him, too dazed to speak.

 

“Why the hell would I surround my brother in a room full of your illegal stuff? You guys reek!” Harry flails his hands in attempt to drive the sifting odor away. He doesn’t want his innocent little brother sleeping in a room full of various drugs he isn’t even sure Harold is aware of, and he’s fervent about keeping his brother oblivious. There isn’t anything Harry can do, apparently. One way or another he will have to explain the damage it brings, and why people often take them. And how he once got high in a pub and lost his dignity by allowing 2 men to take him in turns. Of course he’s gonna have to cut the last part out, he’s never done drugs since then.

 

Harry concludes his brother isn’t going to sleep in his apartment tonight. “I think we’ll have to stay at Lou’s place.” He announces with a pout and he’s pretty sure Niall coos at him for a second before a pang of guilty flashes through his eyes; his face still flushing beet red whilst Zayn’s already passed out on the recliner.

 

“Say hi to Lou for me… and apologies to you and your brother, Haz. Really! I’m so sorry!” Niall hollers his reply a few seconds later after Harry trudges back on the front door. “I’ll—probably—treat you both to lunch tomorrow! But don’t expect on it too much! I’m a broke uni student after all!” He adds as an appeasement, sort of.

 

“Eh, I’ll hold you to that, Nialler!” He shouts back. Guilt-tripping Niall is what he’s best at. “Well then bro, I think we’ll have to crash at my other friend’s place tonight.” Harry explains as soon as he closes the door.

 

“Why?” Harold peeks over his shoulder, brows knitted in confusion. He looks so darn cute when he’s curious.

 

“Niall’s just being a twat, as usual. Besides, I would love for you to meet this other friend of mine.” Harry’s smiling at the thought already. He imagines introducing Harold to his boyfriend, although he hasn’t particularly told anyone in his family that he has a boyfriend, not yet. He’s gonna have to tell Harold soon. “I’m sure he can lend us his couch for tonight, and mind you—he has the fluffiest couch you can ever lie on, in the entire Manchester.”

 

Harold giggles, amused. “Yeah, sure, but you’ll sleep with me on that ‘fluffiest couch in the entire Manchester’, right?” The boy queries, hopeful. And who is Harry to deny him.

 

“Of course, Harold. We can do whatever you want, we’ll talk about anything! We really need to catch up, love.” He smiles softly before ruffling his brother’s luscious thick locks, both laughing in gaiety soon after. Harry places his arm around his shoulder as soon as they leave the building, he fishes his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and shoots Louis a text apropos the unexpected couch crashing with his brother.

 

\--

 

Louis’ hair was blow dried into a fluffy mess; he just got out of the shower a while back when he catches Harry’s mumbled voice, seemingly talking to someone in the living room. Curious as to who the company is, he saunters downstairs and promptly sees Harry sitting by the couch and—a boy. Next to him sits a boy, soft and bashful. A boy who Louis’ certain is no older than 16, hell he must be 15. And—are those _curls_?

 

“Who do we have here, darling?”

 

“Oh, sorry Lou!” Harry looks at him with a bright smile, standing up to throw in a hug, “I messaged you an hour ago, but you didn’t reply. Probably because you were in the shower, so I used the spare key to get in.”

 

Louis hums in understanding whilst his eyes are still focused on the boy who slowly gets up on his feet to stand beside his boyfriend, and oh! _Oh_ —! It hits him hard, his mouth fleetingly goes slack as he stares at them, eyebrows raised in amazement. Same curls; shorter and a tad wilder, cherubic ruddy cheeks and a face smaller than Harry that emphasizes his plump ruby lips, same pale complexion, and god—those eyes. Big, glassy and doe-like, a beautiful pair of emeralds Louis has loved so much on Harry, which this boy amazingly also has. Louis feels like he’s reliving one of the filthiest dreams he’s ever had, the ones where he wakes up too hard and desperate despite already having to come in his sleep. The boy meets his gaze, recoiling as if he was under Louis’ scrutiny. _Harry_ , he’s very much like Harry. He looks exactly like Harry on a much younger form.

 

“This is Harold, by the way! My little brother. I already talked to you about him several times before, didn’t I?” Harry elaborates. Louis feels his mouth going dry. It’s true that he’s heard of Harold before but he never expected for Harry’s little brother to have the exact same face as him, they were shockingly too identical. Louis’ certain this is what Harry looked like a few years back. “Our parents are leaving for Jamaica for their holiday trip, so they need me to take care of him for two weeks. I was going to take him at my uni apartment and spend the rest of the weeks there but the whole flat smells like pot. Niall and Zayn are hopeless. So, I resorted to coming here, if maybe he can crash for the night. We’ll be taking the couch if that’s okay with you?” A tinge of embarrassment laces Harry’s request, and Louis’ stunned countenance isn’t exactly helping him think he’ll agree.

 

His eyes go back and forth at the two for a short while until he settles his complete focus on Harold. The boy is a lot shorter than Harry, all gangly and cute. The long line of his legs through his skinny jeans stretch from the floor to his figured hips, much like his older brother and Louis’ certain this kid will outgrow him soon. Harold’s fitted shirt also accentuates his hip chubs, he looks so adorable Louis wonders why he’s having dirty thoughts.

 

“Um—nice to meet you, sir.” The boy drawls out pretty much like how Harry enunciates each and every of his word although Harold’s voice was a pitch higher than his brother’s. He extends his right arm to shake Louis’ hand, somehow waking Louis from his momentary trance.

 

“Nice to meet you too, Harold. Please, call me Louis. You make it seem like I’m much older than what I already am.” Jibes Louis. His gaze just won’t seem to avert from those ruby lips, it looks utterly sinful he wonders how much Harold can stretch them. Harry’s faux cough snaps him back to his senses, what the hell was he even thinking?

 

“Oh, and yes. Feel free to use the couch. I have extra blankets and pillows in stored, I’ll hand them to Harry later. Just—make yourself at home.” He flashes both brothers a reassuring smile.

 

“Thank you, Louis!” The gratefulness in Harold’s tone sounded too genuine and heartfelt he thinks he’s done something extravagant when he hasn’t really put too much effort into it, he’s basically just lending his couch. Louis receives two cheerful smiles, two pairs of dimples flashing at him all at once, with their cute bunny teeth showing, his breath hitches a little at the sight. Everything’s just too much for Louis to take.

 

And well, Louis knows right then, he’s rightfully screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! Apologies for the late update, got busy with work and stuff.
> 
> Thank you for reading our fic! The next following chapters will go wild from then on so please stay attune, haha !
> 
> **tags:** _voyeurism, spanking, fingering, anal sex_

 

 

* * *

**_ _ **

* * *

 

“So, Harold. Mind if I sit beside you?” Louis starts off, with a big bowl of buttered popcorn on hand as he approaches his boyfriend’s little brother who is sat on the couch whilst watching a film Louis has popped in a while earlier. It was the same cozy couch he’s slept on last night snuggled up with Harry, who is currently running an errand for his afternoon class, leaving him and Louis around the flat all by themselves.

 

“This is your house, Louis, of course you can sit anywhere you want.” Harold drawls his words out; apparently their distinctive way of articulation (must be a Styles thing), but Louis seemingly perceives the faint haughtiness behind his tone for a passing second. Harold is sat on the couch with his legs crossed exhibiting a collected posture, in Harry’s grey yoga pants and white t-shirt whilst he idly fiddles with his phone which may have come across as an attempt of dodging an open conversation with an adult, or of the likes. Although Louis’ pretty sure Harry’s little brother isn’t like that.

 

“Well, uhm, okay.” Louis flops down beside him, eyes soon focusing on the film but his mind wanders off halfway through. He’s far too distracted to care what the man on the screen was going on about, so he decides to break the lingering silence between them, save for the background noises coming from the television. “So, how’d you find Manchester the first time stepping a foot ‘ere?”

 

“It’s a lovely city,” Harold is swift to give him a bright, genuine smile. Louis’ no expert in telling the authenticity of a smile but he’s certain Harold’s smile conveys true affection towards the city. “Although I haven’t really had the chance to explore the place fully.” He sets the phone down on his lap and shifts closer to his left where Louis’ inclined comfortably. “Just the trip from the airport to H’s uni apartment, and to your flat. You have a lovely place too, by the way. It’s very homey and I’m glad I got to stay here for the night, guess this counts as a good first experience and impression.”

 

“Thank you, indeed, this is a beautiful city. Glad you find it endearing as much as I did the first time I got here. Anyway, Harry said he’d tour you around this weekend, sounds fun.”

 

“Yes! I told him I wanted to visit the old Trafford stadium.” Louis’ interest is suddenly piqued upon hearing the place. He loves football, of bloody course, he’s a big supporter of Man-U. He’s worked with them a couple times whether be it sponsoring or promoting the team. Has had his few shares of experiences playing with the footie stars he respect from the screen and up personal.

 

“Oh, you like football?” Louis queries with a knowing grin. He’s got to fish this out of the boy.

 

“Everyone does Lou!” If the way Harold calls him engraves a wide grin on his face, then he’s not admitting to that. “I was in the footie team back in high school!”

 

“Oh? That’s cool! What position did you play?”

 

“I’m a forward, but clearly not that skilled since coach had to switch me with the second striker, and of course they can’t make me a goalie to save the team, let’s be real.” Harold giggles at the attention Louis gives him. Surely he’s not that bad, he was once a forward; you can’t possibly reach such position if you’re inept. “Runs in our DNA you know, these godforsaken baby deer legs.”

 

“Very nice legs.” Louis’ eyes follow the long expanse of Harold’s legs, and before he can even put a cork in his mouth, he inadvertently blurts his thoughts out and wonders whether Harold has taken it the wrong way and has made a complete tit of himself. “I mean, I think you’re good enough if you were able to play for your school’s footie team, you know?” He reasons quickly to divert the blunder.

 

“Maybe? If you put it like that. I’m really not that good compare to our set of strikers but one thing’s for sure, I’m hella better than H!” Chuckles Harold.

 

Prior to Harry’s brief referring, Louis’ mind flashes back on the day they went out on a date by the field, blocks from Harry’s Uni, which ended up with them playing football along with the kids who spend most of their time practicing in the course of late afternoon. And up to this day, it was still very clear to him that Harry is a shitty player. A right horrid player. He can’t block a goal to save England. “Well, that’s awfully true. Can’t defend him.” Louis snorts. Those legs weren’t exactly made to block and kick balls.

 

“How about you? Do you play?” Harold questions with inquisitive gleaming eyes.  


“Yeah, I do. Back in Doncaster during Year 8 I was recruited by the coach himself to join the team, unfortunately I got into a motor accident the day I was set to attend the tryouts.” Louis props his foot atop the coffee table, (his bad habit that Harry has always scold him for) as he reminisces his good ol’ pubescent days. He feels entirely old when sharing his story to Harold who seem to have felt sorry in regards to his past accident. “I still play though, for exercise, gotta keep these rusty limbs moving.”

 

“Maybe we should play sometime then!” Harold cheers, his frown promptly turning into a large toothy smile. Louis can’t help but admire his two front bunny teeth (that should definitely not sound creepy, he’s not a creep, but if those scrape on the girth of his dick and feel it for days, he won’t mind).

 

“We totally should.”

 

They continue to talk about their common interest in football, which somehow turned into a full discussion whether which trouper fits the valuable player award for this year’s World Cup. It’s actually wonderful knowing both Harry and his little brother are fans of his sport. He notes to himself to take them out at the first division as soon as the season comes by fall. He’s taken Harry before at the first two English league championship between Arsenal and Man-U and Louis has witnessed how driven his boyfriend had become all throughout the game he had to keep his arm around Harry’s waist to keep him steady.

 

He can’t help but imagine having both his arms wrapped around on two waists soon. Louis wishes Harold’s as enthusiastic as Harry when watching, one way or another he shamelessly admits to wanting to feel those hip chubs under his palm.

 

Sooner without realizing, their footie talk has been sidetracked to classic X-Men stories such as _‘The age of apocalypse’_ and _‘Days of future past’_ , until they started cataloging the top ten best Marvel stories according to Buzzfeed, and the best ones that has been adapted to films and series.

 

This was something he didn’t have with Harry, not that Louis has never cited his Marvel infatuation with his boyfriend, (he’s made it extremely clear from day one with all his Marvel possessions, his favorites were his boxers and classic comic collections) it’s just that, Harry has very little knowledge in it, but he isn’t the very least obligated to educate himself just to please Louis. The older man has reassured Harry himself he’s fine when one day he’s seen Harry’s bookmarks of the brief histories of the Marvel universe, wikipedia results of Louis’ favored mutants, and even going as far as visiting Amazon for cheap costumes Louis assumes he could probably wear for his amusement and pleasure.

 

He’s certain, for some reason, he’s fucked Harry raw in his _Jubilee_ gear that night.

 

 

Conversations with Harold fly easily. He is charming, again, perhaps a Styles thing, and is a bit sharp Louis can’t exactly pin point where his quick wits come from. He assumes probably because he’s young which isn’t quite reasonable now that he’s thought it further, or maybe because he’s just met the boy last night so Louis can’t accurately tell what’s running through his mind.

 

They talk about a lot of things, jumping from one subject to another where they comically always end up talking about Harry.

 

It was very clear, by Harold’s way of talking about Harry that he loves his older brother very much. The gleam in his eyes, the genuineness of his smile and his cute little pout whilst crying over Harry’s departure when he was off for uni says it all, if Louis’ not mistaken Harold’s definitely swooning, which is—adorable.

 

“Oh!” Harold perks, suddenly sitting crisscross applesauce whilst pressing the throw pillow against his chest like he’s about to unveil a discovery that would help people live on for a hundred more years. Louis sits amused, rapt on whatever’s to come filing out of his mouth, he seems excited; Louis should give him that.

 

“There was this one time back then when we were young, so much young.” He stresses out the last three words much to Louis’ amusement. “Like, maybe H was 12 and I was about 8?” Louis chuckles at how Harold scrunches his nose at the memory, must be something very humorous he has to have another version from Harry. “We went on a holiday trip at Honolulu, and if you knew my parents you wouldn’t ask why Hawaii, or why _here_ or why _there_ , basically they’re just fervent voyagers who wouldn’t stay their arses put on one place.”

 

Louis throws his head back as he barks out a laugh, never expecting such sass coming from Harold.

 

“On the second day of our trip that afternoon, Harry came hording us by the shore where I was busy burying Robin while mum sun tans. He just—out of the blue—tells us he’s a mermaid. A fucking _mermaid_ can you believe?” The incredulity on both their faces were enough to result them into a laughing mess, and really, why isn’t Louis even surprised?

 

“But hey, he’s proven it right when we went for a late afternoon swim. My trunks just decided to slip off my body and I was left bare floating. I tried to be subtle about my situational luck but I couldn’t stay in salt water for so long right? I was already a bawling mess because I was too embarrassed to call for help.” Harold subconsciously plays with the loose string at the hem of his shirt.

 

“Harry swam my way and asked what was wrong, I had to tell him, all the embarrassment set aside. I still couldn’t stop crying though, so he gave me his own swimming trunks just so I’d stop. It was really sweet. I mean, who else would’ve done that for me? No one!” Louis’ mouth stretches into an amused grin. If it were him to undergo such circumstance, he’s certain Harry also wouldn’t mind slipping off his trunks and have Louis use them for his benefit.

 

“When we went back on the shore he’s had his bits covered with this gigantic clam we’ve found by the boulders, the sooner we get back to the hotel, the quicker he’ll get to tend his splotching rashes. His _‘I told you I was a mermaid’_ in reference to his situation during that time has been imprinted inside my mind for so long it’s still so funny to me. I just love Harry so much.”

 

The corner of Louis’ eyes crinkle as he smiles fondly over Harold’s story. “I can definitely imagine he’ll do that, yeah.” He chuckles at the actual thought of Harry offering something beneficial for some but amply unrewarding for him. He’s the kind to put other’s safety and comfort first which was good but harmful to some extent. His selflessness skyrockets Louis’ protective nature and he just wants to guard Harry down at all cost.

 

“It’s nice to have a sibling as gentle as him. I can see how much you mean to him, how much he loves you every time he talks about his ‘ _adorable little brother’_.”

 

“Oh? He talks about me?”

 

“Always. Things that you’d probably get embarrassed about, you know how your brother goes when he gushes about something, or rather someone on such matter.” It was honestly a given fact, Harry tends to over-love, which was a nice trait Louis can’t possibly call out as bad—hell his boyfriend has the biggest heart compressed in his tiny chest. “He tells me how much of a crybaby you are back then, having these massive bouncy curls, ruddy cheeks and _‘oh my god Lou he has a face of an angel!’_ something along those lines.” Louis recalls, bemused. He isn’t exactly exaggerating Harry’s verses, he also isn’t the least bit surprised where all those came from.

 

A tinge of blush creeps onto Harold’s cheeks, Louis thinks he’s actually looking at an angel. “He’s the crybaby actually.” Harold snorts, “Who do you think still cries when watching Titanic or the Notebook for God knows how many times he’s watched it? Wailing like a baby while projecting every film scenes in real life.”

 

Louis mutely cackles. Guilty at the thought of crying on every classic romantic films during their movie nights. He can’t help but imagine Harold teasing his older brother’s faintness over such movies whenever they watch together. “So the bouncy curls and a face of an angel is a valid statement?” He slyly points out with a knowing smile.

 

“He’s probably talking about himself, not me.” He sticks his tongue out whilst a blush still colors his face. The heat creeps further, either because of the words spoken to describe him, or—Louis’ fond gaze has him cornered. “Well, enough about us! You’ve known enough! How about you? What is your relationship with my brother?”

 

Louis stills. But he’s quick to fill the brief silence. “He’s uh, my friend? Or so you could say probably my student. I volunteered as a substitute professor in his Natural Science class, his actual professor was a close pal of mine and has given me the chance to impart the youth with whatever I got in class myself. The problem is, the first time he met me he thought I was his senior—and sort of flirted with me.”

 

“He did not!” Harold gapes as he holds his laughter in.

 

“The look in his face after seeing me enter his class the next day was something I imprinted well at the back of my head. Regardless, I got close with him and his company so I know quite a few of his friends. I’ve also acquainted myself with his terrible knock-knock jokes, worst is when he uses it for pickup lines.” If Louis’ being honest, he’s totally uncomfortable sharing their story to Harry’s little brother. He tries to find the shock or any sort of judgement in Harold’s eyes, clearly what he was trying to narrate was highly unprofessional and comes off with much suspicion. He tries his best not to give off details of his actual relationship with Harry.

 

“Heeeey! I’ll have you know that they can bloody well be incorporated, thank you very much!” The sudden resonating drawled ‘hey’ comes from none other than Harry who obviously just got home.

 

“H! God you’re so embarrassing!” Harold clutches onto the throw pillow tightly as his laughter rings within the room, Louis joins him soon leaving a disgruntled looking Harry glaring at them. “How are we siblings! I refuse to believe!”

 

Harry’s glare and pout doesn’t last long as he also joins their hilarity. If talking about his outrageousness makes Harold and Louis get along so well then he’d much rather make a more complete fool of himself. Harry thinks that’s fine.

 

“Okay then, you two can continue to mock me but keep in mind that I won’t cook dinner tonight! Have it your way chef Lewis!” Harry sticks his tongue out as he heads to the kitchen, and boy did Louis just see that face earlier? Right, _Harold._ Same face. Practically the same tongue.

 

“Well I’m your responsibility H! You still have to feed me one way or another or I’m telling mum!” Harold calls out with a tease before going back to his phone, seemingly scrolling through his feed or timeline or whatever social networking site Louis’ sure wouldn’t interest him. He stares at Harold’s small grin that hinted on the corner of his ruby lips. The flat might as well combust with the amount of fond they all have for each other. Louis gets up from the couch and ruffles Harold’s springy hair moderately before padding his way towards the kitchen to wheedle his pouty boyfriend.

 

Louis admits, he’s loving the ambiance.

 

-

 

 

Two days prior getting to know Louis as a person, Harold is now free to use the spare bedroom the older man had promised him. The room was once used for stocking Louis’ paraphernalia, but has a nice guest bed stored in it, only Harry had to dust it off and change the quilt to a warm, fabric softened sheet for Harold’s comfort because _‘What kind of brother do you make me for if I let you sleep with these filthy dust particles sticking on your skin? Let me get this cleaned first young man!’_

 

Harry continues to sleep on the couch with him, although he ends up sleeping head slumped on the table after pulling an all-nighter when working on his thesis or take home projects.

 

But tonight was quite different than the rest of the nights Harold has spent sleeping in Louis’ flat. He wakes up in the middle of the night, bladder full from the milk he’s swigged earlier and decides to have a quick wee before going back to sleep. Or rather, he can just accompany Harry as he’s quite certain as of this very moment his brother has yet to sleep with all the courseworks he has to finish by tomorrow.

 

Slowly, he pads through the hallway with minimal sound as feasibly as he could to avoid any sort of disturbance. But as he passes by what seems to be Louis’ room, he stops dead in tracks.

 

_Smack!_

 

Harold squeaks, biting his lower lip as soon as he emits a sound.

 

_Smack!_

 

He hears it again, a muffled cry following suit this time and this just sets the alarm inside him. He feels his heart pulsate rapidly as he sneaks closer to where the odd sound was coming from; Louis’ room.

 

“Shh. He’ll hear you if you can’t keep yourself quiet, love.” The shivers running down Harold’s spine was incomprehensible whether it be from Louis’ husky voice or the dominant aura he exudes. Heat starts to creep in and he’s quite sure his heart will beat out of his chest if he doesn’t calm down.

 

“Or, do you want him to hear you? Want Harold to wake up and see you looking like this?” At the mention of his name, he nearly loses his balance.

 

Louis’ door isn’t closed. The tawny light seeping past the ajar door was the lone light illuminating through the hallway. Harold shuffles closer, breath held back as he tries to see what little scene he can grasp through the small opening.

 

He freezes. What the _bloody_ fuck.

 

Harold sees his older brother splayed across Louis’ lap, _naked._ His back slightly arched whilst his thighs shake. The tawny light fairly sets the mood, the contrast it creates on Harry’s pale skin makes him look a grand sexier. His arse was tooched, as if it was anticipating for something and judging by the red hand marks stamped on both cheeks, this must’ve only meant one thing.

 

Louis grabs each globes and fills his small, veiny hands with Harry’s fleshy arse. His right hand releases a cheek and goes to knead and pinch the swell of his arse before pulling back and strikes a hard spank.

 

Harold winces. Harry yelps, no holds barred.

 

“Fucking naughty. Really want to wake you’re pretty little brother, yeah? My naughty little princess, you call yourself a good brother, hmm?” Louis slurs breathily.

 

The taste of blood was already tangible by this point, he has been biting his lower lip for a while now to conceal any sort of sound that was threatening to escape from his throat. A moan dangerously trying to make its way out.

 

Harold knows it’s wrong for him to watch. Seeing his brother in such state reminds him of the times he’s caught Harry masturbating. Harry has always been very apologetic, and Harold just brushes it off saying he’s a very hormonal teen and that he understands.

 

But seeing Harry, with _Louis_ , was quite different. Especially when Louis starts fingering Harry without so much as a warning. He’s maybe slicked Harry’s hole beforehand judging by the wet sounds his arse produces as Louis pumps his tubby fingers in and out.

 

“Look how well you take my fingers, love. Can come with just that, yeah? As long as something rubs on your spot you turn into a big bawling mess, so desperate for it, love.” Louis grits as his thrusts go harder on each passing second. Harry shrieks at a particular hit and he swears that could’ve made him come.

 

“Fuck me, Louis. P-please put your cock in me, god I can’t—”

 

Louis grabs a fistful of Harry’s curls before he can even put an end to his plea. “Who says you can talk, love?” He slowly pulls all three fingers out and Harold can just picture how stretched Harry might’ve gone with those thick fingers previously stuck inside him. “Sit up, lovely. Work yourself on my cock if you want it that much.” Louis slumps back whilst resting both his hands behind him for leverage.

 

Harold swallows the lump that has seemed to have formed in his throat at the sight of Louis’ cock, he slowly breathes through his nose and hopes he isn’t making much of a noise. He doubts they’d even hear him when Harry starts squealing as he’s already fully seated on Louis’ cock.

 

The next things come naturally. He grinds his arse in tight figure eights causing Louis to grab hold of his hips before pulling Harry up and fucks onward. “Fucking tease.”

 

It’s dirty and hot. Watching Harry straddling Louis as he works himself up and down his cock. Louis’ _thick_ cock might he add. Watching Louis’ eyes go unfocused as he cants his hips up to fuck and stretch Harry further—

 

“Fuck me! S-So big, Louis!” Harry stutters, almost failing to voice his thoughts out, too concentrated on bouncing and making Louis feel good. “Tight for you, baby?”

 

“Fucking tight, love. Always bloody tight.” Hisses Louis. Thrusting hard on every bounce. He pulls his hand off Harry’s left hip and spanks the doughy flesh of his arse, punching a loud shriek from him.

 

“L-Louis! Fuck! I-I’m gonna—”

 

“Go ahead, hun, come for me.” And as if on command, Harry comes with a cry as soon as Louis gives his cock five tight strokes as he milks him.

 

Harry stills and tightens around Louis, emanating a loud curse from the older man. “Fucking hell, Harry!”

 

Several thrusts later, Louis comes, filling the latex. He pulls out shortly after their bodies plummet on the mattress.

 

Harold doesn’t exactly wait until they’ve come back to their proper headspaces. He leaves the place quietly the minute Harry rolls on Louis’ side and proceeds back to his room, because of bloody course, there was a bathroom there all along.

 

But god knows what else he might do besides emptying his bladder. After all, peeing was quite impossible when you’ve got a massive erection.

 

-

 

Harold, for the most part, gives Harry the silent treatment the next day. Louis has noticed such dealing early in the morning when Harry kisses Harold’s cheek, the young boy hadn’t reacted much as oppose to what he would usually do whenever his older brother gets touchy with him.

 

Harry has sensed it too, of course. But he leaves it be, thinking Harold might’ve been sulking over the lack of attention he’s given him for the past few days. He’ll make it up to him on the weekends. He’d take Harold out and have the possible best weekends ever. Harry’s still misty from the sex last night, been a good while since he’s had Louis’ cock inside him and god does he want it back up there again so soon. He savors the lingering feeling, and not even Harold’s small tantrum can drop his mood. He’ll deal with his younger brother later.

 

“Lou, Harold, I’ll head off now. I need to be in class in ten minutes, already running late.” He sighs. “I’ll see you both tonight, okay? It’s the weekends tomorrow so we can have a little fun outside, love. Like shopping—or—whatever you want, really.” He kisses Harold’s cheek without waiting for his response before waving at Louis as he saunters out the flat.

 

Louis’ left reading his morning papers whilst Harold finishes his soggy cereal. Before long, Louis hears the bowl clattering in the sink as Harold places them there to wash for later.

 

He’s side-eyeing this whole silent treatment. And if you ask Louis, he has his own suspicion.

 

He might’ve heard a small gasp coming from the door last night. Louis doesn’t want to state the obvious but, who else could’ve it been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think so far? reviews are very much appreciated, thank you! all the loveeee


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait ! It's been months since we've updated. I'm so sorry, got too busy and occupied with work, but hey here's an update !
> 
> **SMUT AHEAD *cough*threesome*cough*!**   
> 

* * *

 

 

**_Ménage à trois_ **

 

It wasn’t as if what Harold had taken in that night was something he could simply dismiss with a shrug. In his defense, it wasn’t his fault he’d given Harry the cold shoulder earlier. Harry lied to him, his older brother who wouldn’t dare keep a secret from him just deliberately falsified his relationship with Louis and told him the older man was nothing but a close pal. Louis was no better; calling Harry his student and turns out he’s been sleeping with him was beyond startling. Unless, they had been getting on with it for all he knows, but it really wasn’t something he could help nor deal with, he doesn’t control Harry. More or less his brother will end up having sexual partners regardless of having no definite significant other.

 

Except for, Harry isn’t like that. He’s presupposed it the wrong way. Maybe—maybe they’re actually dating.

 

Harry is a palpable romantic. He wouldn’t lay a wager with anyone for fun, he might’ve on some occasion for a casual hook up or two, but Louis seemed like a genuine person in Harry’s life and if Harold had caught up on them fucking then he’d be the first to conclude that they’re in the vicinity of actually dating. Harry wouldn’t fuck a friend just to get off. Harry’s a romantic, he gets attached too easily to a friend he’s slowly getting intimate with. So, he’s probably dating Louis.

 

And frankly, Harold doesn’t know how to feel about that.

 

The scene replays inside his head for the majority of the day. In retrospect, he’s been trying to hold a spontaneous conversation with Louis earlier without deflating the mood as well as setting off an awkward air, as much as he bloody can. Louis seemed collected and amiable before he leaves for work, and Harold feels utterly miffed over the underlying tension between them. The burden was all on him and it’s slowly getting into his nerves. He’d much rather put an end to his pointless sulking and might as well talk to Harry and have him spill whatever he’s been hiding when he’s already caught red handed.

 

Harold needs to set things straight with his older brother before he flies off the handle.

 

-

 

Daybreaks weren’t usually Louis’ thing, he’s more of an evening person where he gets to relax copiously after hours and hours of hard work. It wasn’t until he met Harry that he took into account that mornings weren’t overly hectic. Presently, he feels cold without his personal living heater by his side. The other side of the bed is empty aside for the pillows arranged neatly against the headboard. Although they prefer waking each other with kisses—or sometimes a bit of continuance from last night’s escapade. It wasn’t entirely unusual for the other to wake up first and prepare breakfast. At intervals, Harry gets up earlier for his morning classes, or when Louis has big clients he has to tend to. Sometimes he leaves Harry with a note and breakfast placed atop of the bedside table before kissing his sleeping boyfriend as he takes off to work.

 

Louis groans at the loss of heat against his chest where he has Harry spooned the whole night. He drags himself off the bed, still hazy with sleep overpowering his stance but the smell of tea and buttered toast wafting gradually stirs his sluggish condition. His stomach grumbles at the delicious whiff as he makes his way toward the kitchen where he sees Harry making their breakfast. His back facing Louis as he’s particularly busy spreading butter on bread.

 

“What are you making, love?” In Louis’ murky state of mind, he approaches his lover and deliberately wraps his arms around his dainty waist whilst kissing his neck in a jiffy which—was odd? Normally he tip toes a bit to land his lips on the right spot where Harry loves it. But his mindset dismisses the peculiarity as his lower region starts thinking for him. He’s been hard from the moment he’s woken up to an empty space beside him, he begins rubbing his morning wood on Harry’s perched bum, grinding and squeezing both cheeks tightly to trap his dick in between as he starts thrusting deliciously slow. God, he wants to bend Harry over the counter right now and pound into him until he—

 

“L-Louis…” Squirms the warm body he holds captive. Louis loosens his embrace as his boyfriend wriggles and tensely spins around to face him. But to his utter appalling surprise, the flushed—flabbergasted face he is met with wasn’t Harry.

 

“Oh shit! Fuck! Fuck, I’m so sorry! I thought you were—Oh God!” Louis quickly apologizes. “I mean—you, uhm, I was still—just about asleep when I went here and saw you and you just—fuck!” Louis pales, he’s stuttering quite badly and he’s still hard from grinding against Harold. Looking at Harold’s reddened face isn’t exactly helping the huge tent in his boxers. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I thought you were—Harry...”

 

And well, the unnecessary slip up might’ve helped him soften his dick.

 

He could’ve bitten his tongue to stop himself, but seeing as Harold seemed traumatized by his actions, his conscience compelled him to reason. All it took was for him to utter Harry’s name and Louis knows he’s done for.

 

“It’s… uhm, it’s alright.” Harold murmurs as he fixes his gaze on the floor, and within their close proximity Louis can discern how red the younger boy’s cheeks had gone. But what alarms him the most was Harold’s unperturbed response. How can _grinding his hard cock against his arse_ and practically admitting to _sleeping with his older brother_ be alright? Harold squirms awkwardly under his observation, and Louis feels his hesitation before he hears him, “So I was right… you and Harry are…”

 

“—Good morning!” As if on cue, Harry appears without prior notice, looking newly bathed with a towel wrapped around his head. He smells of Louis’ soap and fruity shampoo and appears over all fresh and sparkling. “Everyone’s up early today, and that’s saying something considering it’s the weekends!” Harry chirps whilst strutting through the kitchen aisle to grab himself a toast. But the lingering silence and lack of responses, not to mention both him and Harold’s stiff postures halts Harry’s mid-bite. “Uhm, is there something wrong?”

 

“N-Nothing!” Comes Harold’s quick response, face still beet red from the prior incident. Louis looks at him, trying to catch his gaze to convey his utter remorse over his actions and with no such luck he couldn’t meet Harold’s eyes. But at the same time, he doubts the wolf in him that lusts after the boy would falter now that he’s seen Harold’s expression when touched in places. Much like how Harry would react every time he…

 

Louis shakes his head to clear his mind. His thoughts have wandered off too far.

 

The awkward air carries on, and does nothing but heighten the tension. Harry has picked up on his younger brother’s attitude towards them since yesterday, he knows he’s been off the whole day. He’s even texted Harold during his lunch break saying it would be best to talk things straight out later that night.

 

“Anyway, Harold. I’ll be home—erm, I mean I’ll be back after I pass this overdue project later. And then the three of us can have a—uhm, a lad’s night together? Maybe, maybe we can watch a movie or play board games, whatever you want. Scrabble?”

 

 “Okay.” Comes Harold’s response without meeting his eyes. A bit flustered as he stands still on his spot whilst he uncomfortably chews on his lower lip.

 

“Alright. I’m so sorry, darling. I wish I was free the whole day, but next week my entire schedule is clear! I’ve only got a few classes to attend.” Harry downs the last drop of his kale smoothie and ruffles his little brother’s curls just to ease the strain.

 

“Thanks H. I’m sorry if I’m being a bother.” Harold sighs, a trifling distress laces his tone as he peeks up through long thick lashes.

 

“You’re never one, Harold! I love you, okay? Anyway, I better go prepare myself. I hope you’ll have a good day, darling.” Harry cups both Harold’s cheeks and playfully pinches them to its rosiness. He kisses the tip of his nose before leaning closer. “You and Lou can order pizza for lunch or something else, that alright?” He whispers.

 

“Thanks H. Now go prepare yourself, you still look a bit disoriented from sleep!” Harold teases causing him a playful smack on the hips.

 

-

 

Louis plans on taking Harold out with him today and show the boy his everyday handlings. His firm runs 24/7, but since it’s the weekends a certain team only does the progressions. They both leave Louis’ loft to settle for a sundae at McDonalds, it wasn’t too much of a persuasion since the mere mention of leaving the house, much less going to McDonald’s has Harold smiling within seconds.

 

Harold insists they walk because _‘Going by car means I get to sit again till we arrive there! I’m bored of being on my bum all day, Lou! At least let me use my legs.’_

 

Louis tries not to choke at what seems to be an innocent thought. But the innuendo covering Harold’s words overpowers the message and he’s currently battling with the heat coiling in his lower region. He can’t bloody afford to pop a goddamn boner in public at broad daylight.

 

They reach the place and already went to order their sundaes. Harold finds them a seat beside the glass wall as he waits for Louis to bring him their orders. The older man orders more than what they decided on having, quite understandable why Harold’s eyes went wider superficially twice the size of his doe eyes, pink mouth hanging open in shock and that stupid pretty flush coloring his cheeks. God, he was such an adorable sight, Louis muses.

 

He thinks of spoiling Harold further in the future just to gather such reaction from him again.

 

-

 

The day went faster than anticipated. Harry comes home by the early afternoon with bags of groceries hugged against his torso. He’s bought a lot for tonight’s dinner as he promised to cook a spectacular meal for Louis and Harold.

 

“I’m back! Its chicken pasta and jalapeno for dinner! I’ll make it quick!” He calls, placing his boots in the rack whilst picking up a stray sock on the floor before depositing it in the hamper. He greets Harold with a kiss on the cheek who’s sat on the couch watching _The Great British Bake Off_. Harry then scurries off to the kitchen to unload the bags on the counter before he begins digging for his ingredients.

 

“How was your day, hun?” Arms were then wrapped around his dainty hips. Harry giggles at the warm breath that hits the nape of his neck, shivering at the lips pressing against his skin soon after.

 

“God, it was awful! But, not really, I don’t know, nothing much happened besides Mr. Feely telling me off for my late submission.” Louis’ lenient hums are off sympathy and urges for him to continue. “Other than that, I’ve nothing else to submit anymore so I can finally breathe again, thank god. Won’t be as frantic as before.” Harry feels the soft vibration as Louis bustles in agreement. His lips planted on Harry’s pale skin as the scruff scrapes the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

 

“Oh, and I met Niall earlier. He said hi to you, wants to come over to watch the game next Saturday. If you’re free, that is. I can always tell him you’re busy.”

 

“Nothing much to do, weekdays would be loaded but Saturday’s fine.” Louis whispers as his hand slides lower on Harry’s back, slow and eager to touch. Loving the way Harry’s back arches from the feeling.

 

“Lou…” Harry groans.

 

“Right. Sorry.” Chuckles Louis as he retracts. “I’ll just go hang out with your brother then, call me if you need me or when you’re done and need help.” He pats and squeezes Harry’s bum to conclude his account, earning a slap on his forearm as Harry shoos him out of the kitchen.

 

Dinner was served in about half an hour. Harry’s skill has never ceased to amaze Louis, he’s done an easy meal with the simple ingredients he’s bought from the grocery and has magically turned it into a cuisine that would shame all the chefs at a fine dining restaurant. Louis has always known his physical healthiness was all thanks to his amazing boyfriend.

 

“This is really good, H. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to eat this much greens in a year if it weren’t for you.” Louis finishes the last bite of his side dish spinach, followed by a forkful of carrot cake. If it were served to him 10 years ago, he’d be in so much rage complaining how he’s human and not an herbivorous animal. Harry’s done a great job on making him eat everything without thinking they’re vegetables.

 

“I know. It all started when I became a baker during high school. I thought I was good at baking that maybe I could explore and try actual cooking.” The same story Louis has heard countless of times unfolds again, and he’s never tired of fonding Harry over it.

 

“It wasn’t as good as this one back then though.” Harold chirps before digging back on his pasta.

 

“Well, that’s what I call practice and determination, darling.” Harry states as he aims his look at Louis with a smile.

 

Harold stills as he stares blankly at his now empty plate. He looks at Louis and Harry, back and forth, as if he was just realizing something very important and has the need to voice it out. And well, perhaps it really is important as he should’ve known about it sooner. “You and Louis… live together, right? Even before I came here.”

 

The table had gone silent, save for the soft noises coming from the television. It definitely feels like a cold bucket of water has been poured over Harry’s entire body. He’s put on a spot where he needs to give an answer but his tongue seemingly refuses to let him speak. His mouth slowly closes from its previous gaping as he was ready to give a shambolic explanation.

 

“It’s—uhm, it’s kinda weird that you have a spare key, H. And you cook for Louis like that’s what you always do every day. There’s also two of every stuff here, everything is doubled like Louis has been living with someone to begin with.”

 

“Harold—”

 

“You two are very domestic. I thought you were living with Niall? Mum said you live with Niall in a shared apartment, the one we first went to.” Harold eyes him warily as he awaits for his brother’s response. Whatever his answer might be, he already has an inkling of where this would lead them.

 

“Uhm, no, I mean—I’m just often here, Louis’ a special friend and he helps me a lot with school stuff and—”

 

“Are you and Louis dating?”

 

“That’s—uhm—we,” It didn’t take much for Louis to catch on Harry’s internal plea. He looks very uneasy as sweat starts trickling down his face, he receives a small shrug in return, indicating they’ve nothing left to hide and there was no way out of Harold’s heated interrogation. They might as well just come clean. “We may… we may be, I.” Defeated, Harry breathes out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I—I’m dating Louis.” He flushes right after the admission.

 

“You slept with him…” Mumbles Harold, firm enough for both Harry and Louis to perceive. But as soon as realization hits him, Harry’s eyes widen in horror, appalled by his brother’s words. Louis on the other hand watches the two with his eyebrows raised in amusement, things had gone quite interesting.

 

“I’m—I—what?!” Harry stammers, face badly heating up.

 

 “I saw you two… the other night when I slipped out of the guest room, you were… you were doing _it_ with Louis in his room…” Harold mutters softly as if he didn’t want any of them to hear what he saw that night.

 

“Oh my god.” Harry covers his face with shaking hands. He feels so ashamed and extremely humiliated as the thought of his baby brother seeing him in such state. God he was getting spanked and calling Louis _‘daddy’_ —whilst riding him.

 

Harold looks up from his lap whilst nibbling on his fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—”

 

“Watch?” Louis supplies but receives an incredulous look from Harry in return. He wasn’t being helpful, all the more he’s making the situation worse. Harry darts his gaze back at Harold only to see him in not much of a different state than what he currently is.

 

“That’s okay, love. Got caught plenty times already, no big deal.” Louis shrugs nonchalantly and couldn’t help but chuckle at both Harry and Harold’s reactions. He loves a little tease, the tension was already taking its toll on them, they all need to loosen up and a little jibe wouldn’t hurt. Although it wasn’t a lie when he said they’ve been caught fucking before. Once, Louis took Harry in his office and his secretary had to walk in on him pounding his younger boyfriend who’s bent submissively over his desk.

 

“I mean, I’m fine with you two dating, just—I wish you could’ve told me sooner, H. I don’t know, or maybe when you first started seeing him, a short text message or email wouldn’t hurt.” Harold mumbles, a bit peevish.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harold. I… yeah, we are in a relationship, Louis and I.” Louis can’t help but notice the faint mumbling at the end. “I just don’t—I didn’t want to tell you and our parents yet because, I’m—it’s my first year in Uni, and you know I have a bad record when it comes to dating. I wanted to take it slowly, so I thought I’d keep our relationship to myself and Louis’, and Niall knows, just because.” Harry reveals. The mere mention of Harry’s past relationships sparks Louis’ jealousy. He’s been trying to contain himself for the past months whenever conversations about Harry’s exes were brought up. How all have left him for no particular reasons, and Louis just wants to have a little chat with them. He’s made it clear to Harry that he’s absolutely not plotting bloody murder.

 

“Yeah—that’s alright.” Harold takes a deep breath, eyes still focused elsewhere.

 

Harry dithers for a second, he doesn’t want Harold brooding over an occurrence he knows he’s responsible for, Louis’ best at reading Harry’s body language. “Look Harold, I’m really sorry. What else do you want to know that you might want me to fill up?” He’s calmer now, which was—good? At the very least he’s brave enough to finally admit his relationship with Louis to his brother.

 

“I wonder. How it feels.” It took a whole minute for Harold to assert his inquiring mind and a minute or two before Harry could ever react.

 

“What?” Louis laughs, attention all on him. “You want to join us to know how it feels?” Louis quips and he’s sure that wasn’t the best comeback to throw out at their current situation. In his defense, he’s only done it to diminish the tension circulating the room, only that he’s made a bigger dispute by inviting Harry’s younger brother into a bloody threesome.

 

“Louis!!!” Harry shrieks, once again mobile from the brief shock.

 

“Can I?” Harold meekly asks.

 

If Louis was allowed to laugh, he’s probably already cackling from the dubious look Harry shoots on both him and Harold. Eyes wide and disbelieving, lower lip wavering with the amount of bewilderment he’s taken.

 

“Oh my God, Harold! No!”

 

“Yeah, you can.”

 

“What the fuck, Louis?” Harry’s too flustered and staggered to even function well, his mind jumbling to form coherent thoughts to make up for Louis’ incoherence. He wants to slap Louis and tell him off and just ignore him for the rest of the week.

 

“Sorry! It just slipped of, Hun.” Louis shrugs, feigning nonchalance but he did reflect on the pros and cons of dating two Styles. But he deems Harold was definitely up for it. “I’m—I’m fine with it, and if you’re good and he’s good then I’m also good. Why not? I mean, it’s just—it’ll only happen once so…” Louis purposely trails off.

 

“But!” Harry tries to argue. But the look Louis shoots him, and the cautious look Harold gives him… being absorbedly stared at puts Harry on a weak spot. His younger brother and Louis, in the same room, naked and doing naughty things causes nothing but put him in a haze and his pants to go tighter.

 

“Please, Harry?” Puppy eyes always worked on Harry, given that Harold has such an innocent face he could never say no to that flushed look. But can he this time? “I mean, I—if you want, that is. I don’t really have to _join_. I can just watch and do nothing. I can be a good boy and sit at the edge of the bed.”

 

Harry’s close to fainting. Those words leaving Harold’s mouth, he shivers at the actual memory of being ordered to be a _good boy._ To ‘ _Sit, just watch daddy and don’t touch yourself, understood? Now go sit at the edge.’_

 

“Please.” Harry can hear, rather, feel Harold’s soft pleas. He’s taking a long time to decide, and he can’t even believe he’s actually deciding when he could’ve declined first hand. No means no, but, what can Harry do when both the love of his life are watching him, waiting for his verdict.

 

“J-Just this time.” He whispers, hoping nobody caught on it so he could just run off somewhere and will just have to deal with it the next day because god was he tired. Unfortunately, Harry sees Louis giving him a curt nod and a small reassuring smile. Which was—yeah. They did hear him.

 

He can’t believe this is happening.

 

-

 

They’re all laid in bed with Harold sitting at the edge, hands placed on his lap as he watches his brother and Louis strip. Harry feels tensed like his heart is gonna jump out of his throat at any rate. He still doesn’t approve of Harold watching him but there is an underlying feeling to it that greatly turns him on. Harry curses his exhibitionist nature as this is what gets him all horny at the very moment, never mind that it’s his brother, his cock hardens at the actual thought of him getting watched.

 

_The ambiance filtering the scene during dinner was awkward and too painful for Harry to bear. He tries to start up a conversation in regards to whatever commercial comes flashing on the screen which on the contrary makes it bloody more difficult. Harry knows Louis could tell his struggle as he felt his boyfriend’s hand rubbing against his thigh under the table, reassuring him at the very least that everything’s gonna be alright, which Harry doubts._

_His younger brother is about to watch him get dicked... How is that alright?_

 

He’s brought back to his current situation when he feels Louis spreading his cheeks apart. He whimpers at the taut grip Louis has on his arse and well, Harold’s there. Behind him. Seeing what he looks like when his arsecheeks are spread apart. Harry feels like dying already.

 

“Shh. Baby, you’re fine.” Louis whispers coolly before kissing Harry’s forehead. Louis fumbles blindly behind and reaches for the bottle of lube under his pillow because, of course, that’s where Louis would hide their lubes after rounds of sex. Lazy arse.

 

The sound of the clicking cap and Harold’s gasp at the same time got Harry shuddering with the need to get this over with. He doesn’t want to give Harold so much show if he’s being honest. Harry actually wants to back out now, this was all very much against his will, but, his body won’t let him do anything. He’s already hard and desperate for Louis to stick his cock inside him and a part of him wants to know how Harold would take seeing his older brother get all slutty and needy.

 

He knows himself all too well. Once he’s taken Louis’ cock inside him, a switch is suddenly flickered on and he loses all stability and falls into complete submission. He’s like a dog in a raging heat, panting and crying for a knot to stretch and breed him.

 

Louis fingers him for about two minutes using three of his slick fingers. After deeming he’s stretched enough, Harry takes the honor of lubing up Louis’ hard cock, head red and angry and Harry’s so tempted to take him in his mouth but he tries to hold back as it would only prolong the circumstance he’s desperately trying to curtail.

 

Harry soon aims the cockhead on his dripping hole before finally sinking as he starts bouncing on Louis’ cock, all shame thrown out the window. He begins circling his hips in tight figure eights before dropping back as if to chase his orgasm so they could finally get this over with. But when the head of Louis’ cock grazes on his spot, Harry curses so loud he drops back hard to feel it again.

 

“Fuck! Louis!”

 

Louis takes him from there. He holds onto Harry’s pudgy waist and starts thrusting up in quick short successions. He makes sure he’s hitting Harry’s prostrate dead on as he knows this will help him come sooner.

 

“Oh god, Lou! Fuck me! Fuck me hard—want it!” Harry squeals at a particular jab.

 

“Fuck, hunny.” Louis grits, fucking upward much harder and faster. He chances a quick glance at Harold behind Harry and he isn’t surprised at all to see Harold palming his own dick. Louis glances back at Harry and whispers for only Harry to hear.

 

“You’re brother’s enjoying this. Loves watching you getting boned.” He chuckles when Harry scrunches his nose.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Harold.” It’s then that Louis starts thinking inanely through his dick again that caused him to call out on poor horny Harold. “Strip, love. Join us.”

 

Harry halts his riding to gape at his crazy boyfriend. “Louis!” He punches Louis weakly on the chest, he only stops when he sees his boyfriend reaching and taking Harold’s hand in his. Harry looks back and sees Harold naked in all his glory. Soft looking skin, pudgy love handles and pale—pale skin and his cock, god, Harry’s really close to passing out. Harold’s hard, he’s definitely a hundred percent hard.

 

“Go on, love, straddle my face. Hope you’re clean, gonna lick you out.” Louis ushers, helping Harold into place.

 

“Yes, I’m clean, always clean.” Harold replies and Harry doesn’t want to give much thought to that. What Harold actually meant by _always clean._

 

“Good, love. Now lower your bum on me face, spread your cheeks for me.”

 

Harold does as told. Louis hooks his right arm around Harold’s waist whilst the other holds firmly on Harry’s hip. Quite the possessive monster he is.

 

“Oh! Fuck!” Harold screeches at the first swipe of Louis’ tongue against his bum hole.

 

Harry’s still seated on Louis’ cock, watching and gaping at the sight of his brother grinding on Louis’ face. Taking in what’s presented right in front of him, Harold, gasping and bouncing and spreading his thighs to accommodate, straddling Louis’ face. His boyfriend’s face might he add.

 

He’s near in tears and ready to burst when he’s cut off by a sudden thrust. Louis’ back at fucking into him again, finally acknowledging him after getting Harold to sit on him so he could eat him out.

 

“Hunny, will you help daddy out? Bounce on my dick, daddy’s arms are kinda sore from this position.”

 

Harry immediately scrambles into position like the good boy he is. Daddy is in need of help, he’s a good boy, so he swiftly does as what he was told and starts bouncing keenly on his own—until—he realizes… Fuck. He’s completely fallen into subspace from Louis calling himself ‘daddy’ and asking nicely with his sweet raspy voice. Harry’s so turned on he overlooks his younger brother’s presence right in front of him, a breath away.

 

“I—Harold—” He tries to muster up an explanation when Harold cuts him to the chase as he lunges forward to press his lips onto his older brother’s.

 

Before Harry can react, Harold starts kissing him, _actually_ kissing him with his tongue swiping against his lower lip and pushing through his wet mouth. Harry surprisingly lets him. Tongues intertwining, licking each other languidly in time with Harry’s gradual bounce. Harold reaches his hand out behind his head and grabs a fistful of curls, making Harry gasp whilst Harold takes the opportunity and dives his tongue in further. He starts nibbling on Harry’s lower lip and _Jesus Christ!_ He’s bloody yanking Harry’s hair.

 

Harry feels Harold’s sudden squeal in his mouth, he figures Louis has been prodding his tongue inside his brother’s hole and he just can’t get over the fact that Louis’ mouth has been in both their arses. He’s too turned on he already feels himself close.

 

“L-Louis! I’m—I’m close…” Harry warns and receives a muffled hum in return. He wraps his arms around Harold’s shoulders as he uses his brother’s body for leverage. He bounces faster and much deeper this time. A thought comes in mind and he’d be damned if he ever acts upon his idea but—screw it! He lets his right hand travel down Harold’s torso, slowly grazing his fingertips against his soft, milky white skin until it reaches Harold’s neglected hard cock. Harry then starts jerking his younger brother in tempo with his riding.

 

“I—Harry! Harry I’m—I’m coming!” Harold cries, he’s squirming madly whilst thrusting up frantically on Harry’s hand.

 

A few tight pumps later and Harold’s coming, spilling his seed on Harry’s hand and chest. Harry comes soon after and splattering his load on Harold’s chest and stomach. His orgasm had him tightening around Louis’ cock and no sooner Louis comes following suit, spilling his loads inside Harry.

 

They all fall on the bed, spent and buzzing in post orgasm.

 

Harry, in point of fact, felt perturbed after doing such act with his younger brother. But, he also feels oddly content. He hugs Harold closer into his chest, tucking Harold into his arm and inhales the mess of massive curls atop his head that smells exactly as his own. He slides his hand on the small of Harold’s back and gives it a gentle rub whilst Louis’ spoons him from behind.

 

Harry thinks, everything is okay. It’s Louis and Harold—nothing can go wrong, can it? As long as they all keep their mouths shut and bury this memory in the back of their minds which Harry would specifically like to call it a one-time thing event in his life. Harry’s snuggled between two of the most important people in his life, nothing can possibly go wrong, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ! Please don't forget to give us kudos and/or a feedback ! Thank you :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiii, was it okay? Please tell us, a handful of feedback will encourage us real good. Thank you !


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